The Jack-O-Lantern Carving Contest
by SeraSearaSpin
Summary: Everyone loves the little nations, so they're back, this time to carve pumpkins (and one beet) for Halloween.


**Remember, Italy (or, more correctly, Chibitalia) was supposedly a she, and Hungary was supposedly a he, but I can't do that to my brain, so the only person who gets to call Italy 'she' is HRE. Hungary stays female. And Prussia was Teutonic Knights.**

**And this was supposed to be for Halloween, but I'm bad with deadlines...XP**

**Review! :D**

* * *

The time was Halloween. The skies were dark but clear, with a ripe harvest moon hanging over the trees, and decorations from cheesy to spooky were in abundance.

The little nations were once again notified that there was a test coming up. Since none of them were allowed to go out for Halloween (the combination of little nations and sugar was almost always disastrous), they were only too eager to oblige to lighten the dullness of being trapped inside without any candy.

The blue-suited man, now decked out in black with a festive orange tie, was once again in charge. He clapped his hands for attention, and when that was ignored, he turned the lights on and off repeatedly. That got the nations' attention sufficiently for him to speak.

"Remember the last test we had here?" _He _certainly did. There was still a pink line on the wall from Poland's marker that no one could clean off, and several rooms still smelled faintly like fire. Not waiting for a response, he continued, "We're having another test."

There were alternating cheers and groans. The black-suited man smiled. "This time, instead of not eating marshmallows, you have a new task." He paused for effect, and the little nations oohed and aahed. Italy innocently picked his nose.

"You are all going to carve Halloween pumpkins."

At the mention of carving, Belarus sat up straight. "Can I use my knife?"

"Er, we've already hollowed out the pumpkins and provided pumpkin carvers for y-"

"But I _want_ to use my knife." The Belarusian looked dangerously murderous, and the man backed off. "Fine, fine, do what you wish."

The little Belarusian smiled, and she looked so adorable that the man had to try hard to suppress the urge to smile back. He knew what a demon she was on the inside.

"All right." The man didn't bother to list any rules, as he knew that the unruly child nations wouldn't follow them. "Your rooms are down there." He pointed to a hallway, and all the nations ran for it. (With the exception of Austria, as he thought running was too undignified, and China, because he 'was still too old for this, aru.')

There was another scrabble of motion. 'The Hero' immediately reclaimed the first door, but after a moment of squinting at the pumpkin he decided it wasn't orange enough and ran to the next one, much to the displeasure of Romano, who'd liked his round orange one. There was a burst of cursing from the small Italian as he shouted at the oblivious American.

The other Italian had immediately run to a strangely lumpy pumpkin and was rubbing it and cooing. Naturally, HRE picked the door next to his true love.

England angrily walked over to the black-suited man and poked him in the thigh repeatedly. "What?" asked the man, looking down on the small nation's face.

"I can't carve this weird orange confection! Give me a beet!"

The man paused. "Ah, yes, you were the special case. I have a large beet for you in my office. Follow me."

Poland ran to every door and looked in, searching desperately for a pink pumpkin. However, there were no pink pumpkins, and he sat down bawling in the middle of the hallway. The black-suited man was busy helping England carry the beet, and Lithuania had to sprint out of the building, down the street, buy a jar of pink paint, run back in, and splash paint all over one of the pumpkins before falling on his face, breathing hard.

The horrible screeching stopped, and Poland skipped inside the room his friend had prepared. He danced around the pumpkin, hugged the still wet surface, and then hugged his exhausted friend, getting pink paint all over his clothes. "Liety, you're totally the _best!_" He ran back to his pumpkin, hugged it again, and dashed back to Lithuania's side, squealing like a fangirl who just set her eyes on some good yaoi.

By the time that drama was over, the rest of the nations were safely settled into their rooms.

The contest had begun.

* * *

A certain albino was contemplating his pumpkin, rating its awesomeness on a scale of one to ten.

It was a squashed white pumpkin, with green around the stem.

Teutonic Knights liked his pumpkin very much.

Picking up something resembling a serrated stick, the albino decided to draw his very own pet bird. It'd be easy and awesome enough, and it wouldn't take very much time. Obviously, it'd win, because it featured such a very awesome subject.

Smug in his success, he started hacking away at his pumpkin.

* * *

The pumpkin loomed ominously in the center of the room. It was a tall, narrow pumpkin, with a crooked stem, and it looked absolutely evil.

Latvia was wondering if he could carve anything in it without fear of terrible revenge from the pumpkin. He knew _he_ wouldn't like it if someone took a knife to his head and carved another face on him, so why should the pumpkin tolerate it?

However, he knew he wasn't leaving this room until _something_ was done to the pumpkin, so he gingerly picked up the pumpkin carving tool and poked the pumpkin with it, just breaking the surface of the skin.

Immediately, the pumpkin swiveled around, snarled, and bared jagged shards of pumpkin teeth at him before snapping at the knife, which was swallowed quick as a flash. The Latvian screamed, jumped backwards, and shouted "I'M DONE!" at the top of his lungs.

Moments later, the black-suited man appeared at the door. "You're done?"

The small blond nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, now get me out of here!"

The man inclined his head. "You know where to go."

The nation raced down the hall, and the black-suited man looked at the terrifyingly evil face etched into the pumpkin's surface. _He did a good job,_ he thought to himself, a bit surprised. _And he was only in there for a minute..._

* * *

The American was hungry. He was always hungry, but now he was more hungry than normal. Even cutting off the top of the pumpkin and peering into the depths of it didn't turn his stomach, as the black-suited man had down a good job scraping it out.

He sadly gnawed on the pumpkin skin, pretending it was a hamburger.

_A hamburger..._

With a furious suddenness, America began stabbing the pumpkin with the carver, making jagged lines in the shape of a certain, greasy, meaty, _delicious_ confection.

* * *

As per the norm, Greece had gone to sleep immediately. He continued to sleep for the duration of the contest. When the black-suited man went to rouse him, he found that the little nation was sitting up, obviously asleep, yet carving something he recognized as one of the sculptures on the Parthenon. _Except..._he squinted closer, and then found that each and every figure was topped with a cat head.

And Greece was doing this in his _sleep_? As he watched, the sleeping child picked up the pumpkin and turned to face him, closed lids not even offering a twitch. He offered the pumpkin to the man.

The black-suited man shuddered. _Somnabulists give me the creeps. _With that in mind, he took the pumpkin from him gingerly and pointed down the hallway.

The Greek nation sleepwalked down the hallway, tripped over a chair, and then appeared to go back into a deeper sleep.

_I'll have to keep an eye on that one..._

* * *

Hong Kong did not like his pumpkin.

It was a creamy yellow-orange, with dark green around the stem, and it was absolutely covered in warts and lumps and all sorts of deformities.

Normally he would like it, but he'd poked it and an ant came out and bit him, so now he didn't like it.

He glared at it from under his thick eyebrows. Yao-ge had taken away his lighter, but not all of his fire-making tools. The best components were stashed in his belt.

With his back to the door, he unraveled his belt and tipped out the collection of black powder and assorted elements in glass vials. Then he spread a piece of paper flat, sprinkling a bit of black powder on the paper. It didn't look like enough, so he added more. And then a bit more...

And then, when he had a perfect little mountain of black powder on the paper, he crumbled up some aqua-colored copper chloride to make pretty blue fire. Blue was nice, but red was better. However, Yao-ge had taken all the strontium away, so he'd have to settle for blue and purple sparkles.

Hong Kong rolled up another firework with the excess powder, this time adding potassium chloride, and then poked a pair of fuses into the paper.

Poking a hole in the pumpkin, he stuffed both fireworks in and then went through his chemicals to look for one of the ones that made fire. He squinted at the labels on the vials..._Lithium...no...Francium..._definitely_ no...I don't want to blow the building up...ah, potassium!_

He spit in the pumpkin until there was a nice puddle, and then dropped a pellet of potassium in.

* * *

The black-suited man was enjoying a nice cup of tea in his office when he heard the _whumpf._

He smiled to himself. _I knew I was right to put him in the fireproof room._

* * *

To Hong Kong's utter disappointment, the room did not catch fire. However, the pieces of the pumpkin were scattered all over the place, some with a few sparks still twitching, and he supposed that was consolation enough.

When the man came to let him out, he'd mushed the remains into several orangy-black balls and threw them at him. The man closed the door just in time, and all three balls splattered to pieces on the scorched material.

* * *

A certain Canadian was placidly carving the outline of a certain species of leaf, pulling it out of his pocket and holding it flat against the skin of the pumpkin until the distinctive shape was carved out entirely. He was quite satisfied with his work until Kumajiro decided the completed pumpkin would make a great bed. He'd crawled in, squirming around until the white fur was streaked with orange, and then proceeded to poke his face out of the maple shape.

"Kuma!" he cried in despair. "Why did you have to do that?"

Indeed, the pumpkin was covered in shed white hair now, so it resembled a pumpkin with dandruff.

Canada sighed and started dusting the pumpkin off.

* * *

Romania had been planning to be a vampire for Halloween, just to tick off a certain Hungarian, who said he'd _never_ wear something as stereotypical as that.

So therefore he _had_ to do it. Clear as clear.

He'd mostly ignored the instructions, and then decided to bite this small orange thing in the room he'd been confined to.

Except, since he was wearing those wax vampire teeth, they got stuck.

And, ten minutes later, the pumpkin was still stuck to his teeth, which were still stuck in his mouth, which was on his face, so there was a pumpkin on his face that he'd stabbed full of carving tools that _wasn't coming off_.

It didn't even taste good. Weren't pumpkins supposed to taste good?

He finally gave up, sliding to the floor with the pumpkin attached to his face.

_Hungary is never going to let me live this down. _

* * *

France was excitedly examining his pumpkin from every direction. He loved to carve things, especially certain types of things. Naked people were always a good subject for carving things, as long as they were beautifully formed people.

He set to work, humming happily to himself, chipping away shavings with a flat-ended tool and then using a sharper tool for finer details.

It seemed only moments had passed before he stepped back, smiling pleasantly. Everyone should bear witness to this art form, depicting the lovely act of-

The door opened. "You're done?"

France nodded, a bit disappointed at the interruption of his train of thought. Then he brightened when he realized he could go out and annoy anyone out there by continuing...

He skipped down the hallway. The man looked at the detailed depiction of-

Well, his friend would like it, that much was for certain.

* * *

Romano was angry. He couldn't carve anything! His little brother had all the skills, and stupid boss Spain hadn't taught him anything! It was all Spain's fault. That was it.

He looked at the assortment of pumpkin carving tools. What was the point of them if he couldn't even use them? Frustrated, he kicked them across the room and started jumping on the pumpkin, mashing it flat. Jumping on the pumpkin was strangely fun, and he eventually forgot about being angry and even _smiled_ as he kept jumping on the pumpkin.

Then stupid boss Spain poked his head in and smiled. "Oy, Romano- Ahhh, you look like a tomato!" The brunette rushed in and started poking the Italian's cheeks while the other fumed.

* * *

Teutonic Knights was strutting down the hall when suddenly, Hungary burst out of the room with a pumpkin on her head, charging straight for him. He had a few seconds to think _What the fu-_

And then he took a pumpkin stem to the five meters.

Hungary lifted the pumpkin off her head to see her best friendemy rolling around on the ground screaming in pain. For a moment she was reduced to staring.

And then she burst out laughing, throwing the pumpkin to the ground and falling over, screeching with hysterical laughter.

Teutonic Knights was not amused.

* * *

"Ah, you're such a cute pumpkin!" Italy was rubbing the pumpkin with his face.

The pumpkin in question was very small, about the size of his head, and covered in lumps.

HRE had finished his carving (probably of Italy, though it was hard to tell), and was glaring daggers at the pumpkin. When Italy suddenly fell asleep, he ran in, stole the pumpkin, raced down the hallway, threw it in the incinerator, and ran back. "No stupid pumpkin is stealing my girl!"

He then proceeded to wake the small nation up, console the Italian over the loss of her new friend, and then break back into pleasant conversation.

* * *

Immediately after his entry into his room, Sweden had a marking pen in his hand and was diagramming the expansion of the new toy that he was about to make. Lines snaked across the orange-yellow surface of it, with a piece cut out immediately for extra. After about ten minutes, he put the pen down and methodically began slicing the shapes out. A piece here, slotted in over here, with a tube from that side wedged in here...

The building process took another ten minutes, remarkably fast for someone with such small fingers. When the black-suited man came to pick up the pumpkin, he actually paused in his steps, which was a big thing for him.

Sweden was sitting passively next to what appeared to be a small yet fully functional tank made from pumpkin rind.

After a long pause, the man smiled.

Sweden didn't see him. The nation in question walking stoically down the hallway to look for Finland and the rest of the Nordics.

* * *

After more carving, carrying around of pumpkins (and one beet), and a brief altercation in which Teutonic Knights tried to invade Hungary's vital regions for slamming his nuts with a pumpkin, the contest was over. The pumpkins were lined up in the front of the room, with the respective little nations in front.

The judges? A handful of adult ancients in suits milling around and talking to their kids. China was a little resentful for not being included as a judge, but he was pretty proud of his traditional Chinese painting-pumpkin-carving so he was all right with that.

"How're you doing?" asked a bombastic nation in a set of armor, ruffling the hair of his grandkids. The black-suited man looked on in annoyance. "It's not that hard to remember to bring a suit," he pointed out. "But no, you just _had _to wear your armor."

"I do what I want!" responded the man happily, and then abruptly turned around to talk to an ancient nation with fluffy white hair.

The black suited man would have to bring order again. "Watch and learn," he said to HRE, who stood at his side. He cleared his throat, cracked his knuckles, and bellowed, "QUIET!"

It worked. The babbling nations were quieted, and attention was diverted to the front of the room. "We are now judging the pumpkins. You have one minute to talk about your design, if you wish, and then the judges will score you pumpkin on their clipboards. At the end of the judging session, we will inform you of the first place, second place, and third place winners." Finished with his speech, the black-suited man stepped backwards and nodded once to let them know it was time to begin.

America was up first. His pumpkin was a bright orange color, marred by gaping holes and slashes in the rind. The little American seemed near to bursting with pride at his carving. "I carved a hamburger!" he shouted. After a brief pause, he said, "And that's all I gotta say."

The older nations scribbled on their clipboards.

And on it went down the list. Russia had predictably carved a sunflower. Belarus had carved a perfect replica of Russia, which she had then presented to her brother as 'a wedding present.' Japan's pumpkin was emblazoned with the familiar features of Hello Kitty, to which China actually _squealed_ and hugged it, to the amusement of the others. Iceland had carved a smiley face. Norway's featured a neutral face. A certain Hungarian nation couldn't suppress her giggles at the sight of Romania with a pumpkin stuck to his teeth. Romano grouchily displayed a mashed pile of orange things, somewhat like Hong Kong's collection of orange goo. Spain's pumpkin had a round shape engraved upon it that was vaguely recognizable as a tomato. Turkey's pumpkin was poked full of carving tools and carving tool-shaped holes. Latvia's pumpkin was nodded at appreciatively, but a few judges deemed it too scary.

When France's pumpkin was reached, several of the judges started laughing and smiling. Empires had to be aware of that sort of thing. A few judges said nothing, but their expressions spoke that they disapproved. Apparently the subject matter was a very controversial topic.

"Nonno, what's that?" called out Italy. "What are they doing?"

The armored judge was only too happy to explain. "When two people really love each other, they-"

"We'll have time for that later," cut in one of the judges hastily. The black-suited man was only too happy to agree.

Greece's cat-headed figures brought many looks of curiosity. One of the judges smiled proudly. "He's taking after me!" she whispered to her friend happily. The other woman inclined head. Egypt's pumpkin also recieved much interest; rudimentary designs in the traditional Egyptian style were etched into the pumpkin rind. "You were saying?with ispered the second woman back.

England's beet resembled a unicorn, complete with sparkles and legs. It was a design to rival that of Sweden's. It was obvious that more than a little magic had gone into the making of the unicorn beet, and there had been a brief debate on whether that qualified as cheating or not. The argument had ended when a judge with prominent eyebrows threatened to maim the others if the beet wasn't accepted.

Not for the first time, the black-suited man wondered if he should've picked judges that weren't related to the little nations.

It was Sweden's design, however, that was the most eye-catching. A tank, a fully functional tank crafted out of pieces of pumpkin that fired small chunks of yet more pumpkin. There were many approving murmurs as the judges stood about it.

It soon became clear which designs they favored. It appeared to be a three-way tie between England's unicorn, a traditional pumpkin face carved by Lithuania, and, of course, the pumpkin tank. While the judges argued, the little nations got bored. A few of them took naps, but most of them, being the rambunctious little crazies that they were, started a game of tag throughout the building. Furniture was overturned, nations not playing the game were nearly trampled underfoot, and - worst of all - America got into a cup of coffee sometime had left lying around.

Naturally, chaos ensued.

A screaming mob of small nations went running across the room, chased by America howling maniacally and demanding that they hand over his burgers or he'd eat their feet. Spain had been caught by the American, and was sitting on the floor in his wake, massaging his violated feet. Greece was draped across one of the judge's heads, sleeping somehow, and HRE was sitting on a table talking to Italy, undisturbed by the chaos. The Baltics and most of the Nordics were cowering behind a chair that'd been flipped over to avoid the rampaging American.

However, the rest of the nations were sprinting for the hallway that led to the carving rooms. Maybe, once there they could barricade a door against him...

The hungry American roared as he saw his quarry getting away, a sound that pulled the would-be-escapers' attention, and then grabbed the huge sofa that was the centerpiece of the room. The sight of the tiny American lifting the giant sofa would be almost comical if it weren't for the fact that he was about to throw it at them. "America turns into the Hulk when he's hungry!" squeaked one of the pursued nations.

Then the couch came flying through the air, landing neatly in front of the hallway's entrance. The assembled nations shivered. Now there was no escape; they'd be hunted down, their feet chewed on, one by one...

America advanced upon them, his shadow looming forwards ominously. Then, the caffeine wore off and he fell flat on his face, asleep. The nations he'd been chasing slowly gathered around him, not sure if his performance was faked or not. Romano poked him with a stick he'd borrowed from HRE.

At that moment, the judges finally decided, turning away from each other and startling at the state of the room. The black-suited man quickly regained his composure, though. "LISTEN UP!" When that didn't work, he signed, cleared his throat, and said, "The winners are..."

That got him the attention of every little nation in the room.

"First place is-"

The nations who had ended up destroying their pumpkins paid him no heed. Romano and Hong Kong, for example, with their smashed piles of orange, knew they had no chance to win. On Romano's side, he was sulkily admitting it. Hungary's hollowed-out vital-region-smashing pumpkin had been disqualified after a long complaint about how it had been used to assault the awesomeness, and eventually the judges had just wanted him to shut up. Hungary didn't mind all that much. She was more interested in donning the helmet once more and terrorizing the others. Hong Kong was just glad that China hadn't heard the boom, or else he'd never return the rest of the firework tools.

England and Sweden were sitting up straight, paying close attention to the next few seconds. Whoever won this would get bragging rights, and then some.

Behind the black-suited man loomed the judge with England-like eyebrows, her face one of menace.

So technically, the contest was already decided, with the threat of angry retribution hanging over the black-suited man's head if a certain unicorn didn't get picked. He wasn't sure if he could fight her off without directly impacting his people...but that was a thought for later.

"England."

The small blond sniffed and looked around imperiously. "What did I tell you?" He was trying to play it off, as if he'd expected it, but the unexpected shininess in his eyes and the smile trying to escape the solemn mask spoke otherwise.

Sweden's face remained impassive, but those who knew him well could tell he was disappointed. Finland gave him a reassuring half-hug.

"Second place goes to Sweden."

And now the blank face softened slightly, lips curving upwards, and he tilted his head forwards slightly in acknowledgement of his victory.

"Third place goes to Lithuania."

The Baltic nation, who hadn't been paying attention to the selection process at all, was, to say the least, gobsmacked. "You mean me?"

"Yes, unless there's another Lithuania hiding under the table," said the black-suited man sarcastically, and then softened. "You won. Congratulations."

Prussia shouted, "But that's not _fair_! My pumpkin is the awesomest! And I don't even know those people, so they must not be awesome!"

One look from Sweden silenced his protests, and he meekly stepped back.

America woke up then, springing to his feet eagerly. "Did I win?"

The judges made their escape while the little blond ran around asking questions. Sooner or later he'd receive an answer, and they didn't want to be there when he did. For such a small nation, he was extremely loud, and somewhat spoiled.

And besides, they had to wait out Halloween. Not a single nation could be allowed to leave, for the fear that once exposed to sugar, they'd go up on a sugar high and never come down.

They took their places around the building.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The next morning, when they entered, expecting a scene of carnage, there was only America's damage from last night. All the nations were curled up in various positions, sleeping peacefully amidst the pumpkins.

After a moment of standing there and admiring the cuteness, one of the judges called "Wake up!"

The nearest nation, Estonia, yawned and rubbed his eyes. "What is it?"

"It's time to go home."


End file.
